


I Said I Would

by charis2770



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Crooked Cops, Crying, Disobedience, Embarrassing Personal Realizations, Human Trafficking, Investigative Photography, M/M, Non-Consensual Corporal Punishment, Punishment, Spanking, Switches, Underground Sex Slave Auction, Yakuza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 23:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12119973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: Asami warns Akihito not to take an assignment he's given, because it's far too dangerous. Akihito does it anyway. Asami ASKS him not to take it. Akihito does it anyway. Finally Asami tells him that if Aki persists, he'll punish him. Akihito still ignores him, and something very bad almost happens to him. Asami keeps his word, whether Aki agrees or not.





	I Said I Would

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a commission, and very different from the stuff I usually write. Writing about healthy, consensual BDSM is important to me. But that's because it's my personal mission. I hope my readers will forgive me for this, but I agreed to do it for several reasons. One is that this person contributed money to a vital medical need in my family and I owe them a huge debt. The second one is that I also want to make it clear that, despite the fact that I don't write non-con stories, I do often read them. It is, in fact, one of my personal fantasies. That doesn't mean I actually want anyone to do anything to me against my will, outside a possible roleplay scene. And it's okay if you have these fantasies. A huge numner of people do. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Just never forget there's a huge difference between fantasy and reality.
> 
> Now, in case you might be triggered by it, there is no sex in this story. Asami doesn't touch Aki that way after punishing him when he doesn't agree to it. This is not a rape story. This is about Asami being so terrified of losing Akihito that he resorts to physical punishment in hopes that Aki may listen to him the next time. Maybe it will even work.
> 
> Also, this story is NOT a part of any of my other Finder series. It is a one-off, and takes place not long after Akihito moves in with Asami. There are no other people in the picture in their relationship. It's a completely different world, one much closer to the manga's canon. I just don't want anyone being confused by that. I hope you can all take it as what it is: a fantasy. That's what it's meant to be, not an example of something that's okay, because it definitely is not. Real BDSM should always be consensual.

The ride home is horridly awkward. Akihito hates the silence, but Asami doesn’t seem inclined to break it. He’s staring straight ahead, sort of at the back of Suoh’ head. The only sign he’s even alive is that he periodically blinks. The expression on his face is utterly impassive. Next to him, the young photographer tries not to fidget and...tries equally hard not to wonder what’s going to happen when they get home. 

It had started innocuously enough. He’d been given an assignment, just like so many others. Catch a dirty local cop accepting bribes from some petty criminal. He’d taken the job, of course. He always takes the job. For one thing, he’s good at what he does. For another, even though he’d finally given in and moved into Asami’s penthouse when that creepy stalker dude had started targeting him, he refuses to live off the man’s money. And last, but certainly not least, despite the fact that he does have some talent for investigative photography, that’s not his dream. And if he wants to be an artist, to have his work shown in galleries and displayed in art books on people’s coffee tables and purchased by rich people just like the one he’s living (and sleeping) with, he needs better equipment. So he’s always taken the job, even the shitty ones, and done his best to squirrel away every spare yen he can for the day he can walk into that camera store in Harajuku and buy all the stuff he needs to do it right.

“Turn it down,” Asami had said shortly when he’d told him about the job. Akihito had blinked at him in amazement, jaw dropping open at the jerk’s offhanded demeanor and the way he’d dropped the order so casually.

“What the fuck, Asami,” he’d cried, outraged. “I don’t tell you how to do your job….whatever the fuck it is...and...and you don’t get to tell me how to do mine!” Asami had laid down his chopsticks and looked him directly in the eye.

“I do this time. It’s too dangerous. You don’t know what you’re getting into. Turn it down, Akihito. I’m not joking.”

“What? Screw you! It’s my job! I’m taking it, and you can’t stop me!” Aki had been nearly yelling by that point, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Asami’s eyes had narrowed a little. It was an expression that always did something funny to Akihito’s stomach. It was part fear, and part excitement. He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he kept pushing whenever Asami got that particular look. Asami’s amber eyes had gone dark with anger for a moment, then he’d sighed.

“Akihito...there is much more going on behind this ‘story’ you’ve been assigned than your editor knows. There are people involved who….even I am not sure I can protect you from if you’re discovered. I am asking you to let this one go.”

Aki’s eyebrows had raised in surprise. In situations like these, Asami almost never asked He was much more the type to order or demand. His asking that way had almost made the photographer give in. He’d shoveled a load of rice into his mouth and muttered.

“I’ll think about it.”

But he hadn’t given it up. Instead, he’d hidden his activities from Asami. He’d taken the warning to heart at least, and been more careful than he ever had on an assignment before, going to greater lengths to avoid being seen. One night, he’d followed the policeman to a restaurant in Shinjuku, located off the main streets, almost in an alley. Thanks to his lover, Akihito now possessed a bunch of neat little toys designed for covert surveillance, and so, since he’d been certain the cop hadn’t known who he was, he’d decided to go into the restaurant and have dinner, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of the man and maybe a clue as to what was going on. 

And boy, had he gotten a clue. While he himself had been seated at a tiny table in the middle of the main dining section among the regular customers, he could see a separate dining area near the back, separate from the rest of the place by a half-wall, a painted screen, and some tall, potted plants. There’d been only one table back there;a large one, at which several men had been seated. All of them wearing loud suits that screamed money and looked tacky at the same time. On every bit of all of their exposed skin; hands, necks, even on some of their faces and a couple of guys’ shaven heads, they’d all had tattoos. The cop had been sitting across from the oldest of them, having some kind of hushed conversation. Aki had snapped a few pictures with his button cam. He’d eaten quickly, not wanting to call attention to himself by leaving his meal uneaten, then walked as quickly and calmly as he’d been able out of the restaurant.

Unfortunately for his own sense of curiosity, he’d been unable to keep his mouth shut that night when Asami had gotten home.

“How come you didn’t just tell me Senior Inspector Amaro was in bed with Yakuza?” He’d blurted it out without thinking. The look on Asami’s face at his words had made him curse himself for never learning when to keep his dumb mouth shut.

“I thought I asked you to let that assignment go,” Asami had said quietly. Too quietly.

“And I said I’d think about it. This is my job, Asami! Look, don’t worry, okay? I’m being careful! He hasn’t seen me.”

“If you’ve gotten close enough to know that the men that Inspector is taking bribes from are Yakuza, it doesn’t matter that he hasn’t seen you,” Asami had growled. “They have. And I promise you that they know everything about you by now, from where you were born to where you went to school, who your parents are and where they live, what kind of vehicle you drive, where you work, even your favorite foods and who all of your friends are.” Akihito had gulped, thinking of his parents, Kou and Takato.

“Th-that’s just crazy. I didn’t get close to any of them. And I didn’t even have my camera with me. It...it’s fine, Asami. I’ve been really, really careful!” Ugh, he’d hated that his voice had sounded so much like a whine. Asami had leaned close to him, his eyes full of an emotion Akihito hadn’t quite been able to name.

“Drop this, Akihito. I mean it,” he’d said in a cold voice.

“Or what?” Akihito had demanded, bristling as he always did when Asami acted that way. He hated being bossed around, that was all. It had nothing to do with the little thrill up his spine, or the little voice in his head that whispered to him, wondering what Asami would do. Nope. Nothing at all.

“If you don’t let it go, despite my asking you to, despite knowing the danger you’re putting yourself in,” Asami had said in a silky, threatening tone, “I will punish you.”

Aki’s throat had gone dry, his stomach doing weird little flips and twists in his gut, his heart suddenly racing. He can’t even remember now what he’d said in response, just that he’d pushed himself away from Asami and hurried to his room before the man could see that he’d been more than half hard in his skinny jeans. He hadn’t jerked himself off that night in the shower either. Nope. Not even a little bit.

For a couple of days, he’d laid low. Maybe Asami was right, and this story wasn’t worth the risk. But then Mitairai had made fun of him at work, calling him a hack and an amateur, and his professional integrity hadn’t been able to take it. He’d gone back on the case, ignoring the voice in his head telling him it was a bad idea. It had been in a back alley where they’d grabbed him; a dark bag of some kind thrown over his head from behind, strong arms picking him up effortlessly despite his kicking and punching. He’d been pretty sure he’d gotten in a couple of good hits, judging from a pained grunt and an angry curse from the men holding him in the back of whatever car he’d been thrown in. Then there had been a sharp pinch in his arm, and everything had gone silent.

When he’d awakened, his head bad been throbbing with pain. Then he’d noticed that he was cold. Looking down at himself, he’d seen that he was naked. Terrified, he’d leaped to his feet to run for the door he could see from the small, dirty pallet he’d been laying on. Just as his fingers had reached out to grasp it, he’d been drawn up short and fallen heavily to the floor, crying out in pain. He’d looked down and seen that some kind of shackle had been connected to his ankle, a thin steel cable attached to it and bolted to the wall. He’d yanked at the chain with both hands, but to no avail. All he’d succeeded in doing was to hurt the palms of his hands where it had dug in painfully. He’d spent what had seemed like hours trying to loosen the shackle from his ankle or the chain from the wall, all to no avail. At some point, a slot in the door had opened and a tray of food had been shoved through. At first, he hadn’t eaten it, worried that it might be drugged with something. After that, he’d eventually lost track of time. He’d dozed a little, even though the pallet had been hard and lumpy. More food had been shoved through the slot. He’d ignored it too, even though his stomach had growled. He’d paced the tiny room as much as the cable would allow. He’d slept some more. He’d thought of Asami, waiting in vain that his lover would show up to rescue him as he always had before, but despair had set in when he’d remembered that he’s hidden his continued investigation from the man. At last, hunger had driven him to devour the food on the tray despite his misgivings. He’d had no idea how long he’d been in the little room by then, or how many meals he’d refused. As his head had gone fuzzy a few minutes after eating, he’d realized that he’d been right about the food. He’d fought the drowsiness, but eventually sleep had overcome him and he’d collapsed on the pallet. All was darkness.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he’d awoken, finding that he’d had tears on his face as he thought of Asami.

“Oh, please save me. You always save me. You saved me from Feilong when he tried to make me tell him about that disc. You saved me from those crazy Russians. You saved me from that stalker guy. You have to save me again. You just have to. Oh Asami, please.: 

More silent tear had slid down his face. Gradually, he’d become aware that something had been different about the room. A curtain that had covered one of the walls he’d been unable to reach had been open. Rather than a window to the outside as he’d expected, there had been a bright light shining into the room, with shadowy figures moving around beyond it, walking back and forth. He hadn’t been able to make out anything about them because of the light in his eyes, but he’d stood on unsteady legs and shouted for help. Either the people on the other side couldn’t hear him or they hadn’t cared. This had gone on for gone some time.

Finally, a voice had come on over some kind of speaker, and his heart has sunk, fear turning his veins to ice.

“Gentlemen and ladies, I believe you’ve had more than enough time to peruse the merchandise. If you’ll join us in the main room, bidding will now commence.”

And then it had made all too much sense to Akihito. The police officer he’d been investigating hadn’t been accepting bribes from that Yakuza guy. Or if he had, it had been to give him names. Makes of young street kids or petty criminals or orphans who wouldn’t be missed too much. He’d been selling them information on the right people to kidnap. He’d recalled an article in the paper a few weeks back that had probably prompted his assignment, about young men and women between the ages of 16 and 25 that has gone missing over the course of the past few months. Akihito had probably not been the only one there, locked in a room and kept drugged to keep him compliant. He was being sold, like a pet on display in a pet shop window, and now some horrible man or woman was going into some other room to bid on him like he was a piece of artwork or a racehorse. He’d be sold into what amounted to slavery, and he’d never see Asami again.

He’d fallen onto his pallet and sobbed hopelessly for what had seemed like hours. Eventually, the curtain had opened and the bright light had shone onto him again. But this time, the door had opened and four huge, burly men covered in tattoos, wearing black pants and short-sleeved, tight black t-shirts had come in with a key and removed the cable. He’d heard a voice speaking through the fog in his brain.

“Does your purchase meet with your approval, Sir?”

“Yes,” another voice had answered curtly. There had been something about the voice….He’d shook his head to try to clear it.

“Will you require my men’s help to transport your new plaything to your vehicle, or…” The first voice had spoken again.

“No,” the second had cut him off coolly. “I can manage him just fine.”

“As you wish, Sir,” the voice had said. The men had hauled Akihito to his feet. He’d tried to struggle, but his limbs had felt like lead. The other speaker had entered the room and the huge guys had walked out, snickering and making dirty jokes about what was going to happen to Akihito soon. He’d wanted to vomit. He’d wondered if he’d had the energy to make a break for it past the man who’d been reaching out to him. It had been a false hope. Before he’d even been able to take a single step, powerful arms had been scooping him up effortlessly and lifting him off the floor. He’d found himself being carried like a baby. Despairing tears had run down his face as he’d pushed weakly at the man who had apparently bought him.

“No,” he’d cried. “I want Asami! Let me go! Please, please, I want Asami!”

“Hush,” the voice had whispered into his ear, and he’d felt a warm coat being wrapped around his body, then felt himself being carried out of the room. That was when it had clicked in his disoriented mind. He’d looked up into Asami’s face. Just as he’d opened his mouth, Asami’s hand had covered it.

“Do not say a single word until we’re out of this place,” Asami had growled warningly. Akihito had sighed in relief and allowed himself to be carried out and set down in the limo with Asami’s coat still wrapped around him. He’d felt a lot of the fog drift away as the cool night air had cut through the haze. Asami had slid in beside him and leaned over his foot to unlock and remove the manacle, tossing it out the window of the now rapidly-moving car. Akihito had thrown himself into Asami’s arms, all the panic and despair of the past….he’d had no idea how long it had been...days?....bursting out of him in relief that he was safe. That Asami had come for him. Asami had held him back just as fiercely, burying his face in Aki’s hair and inhaling deeply. They’d sat that way for a long time, until Akihito had at last stopped crying and been able to sit up.

“Asami, I’m so sorry,” he’d whispered. “I should have listened to you. I thought….I thought the guy was just a dirty cop. I had no idea what was really going on. You were right. I’m so sorry,” he’d babbled. Asami had shaken his head.

“You’re safe now, and that’s all that matters at this moment. I plan to get you home, get some real food into you, a bath, and then some sleep. The rest can wait until tomorrow.”

Which had brought them to this moment, when Akihito realizes suddenly that, through his honest relief, Asami is also angry. Asami’s warnings….and his threat...come crashing back into his mind. But….but Asami wouldn’t really do….do that to him. Would he? He sneaks a glance at his lover, whose face has now gone stony and impassive, and he’s not so sure. Asami has “punished” him before for defying him, but that had been under completely non-dangerous circumstances like Akihito being a smartass one too many times, or trying to throw away one of his valuable firearms in a misguided attempt to protect him. The time he’d discovered Asami’s “secret room.” Those “punishments had consisted of his lover tying him up and teasing him mercilessly before fucking him halfway unconscious. He has a feeling Asami had meant something different this time. Dread sits like a stone in his stomach. The rest of the ride back to the penthouse is silent.

Food has never tasted so good. Akihito eats the sushi Asami orders until his stomach feels like it will burst. It’s while he’s eating that he learns he’s been missing for 5 days. And that Asami had paid over 11 billion yen for him at the underground slave auction. One of the highest of the night. Apparently his hazel eyes are a valuable rarity, and his fine, pale skin is very desirable. Guilt over such a staggering sum adds its weight to the stone, and he finds he’s not hungry anymore. No amount of guilt, however, can take away the sheer bliss of being able to wash away the feeling of filth all over his skin. Not only has ne not been able to bathe properly for nearly a week (whomever had been in charge of him had shoved a bucket of water and a sliver of soap and a thin, rough towel into the room every couple of days, but it had hardly been sufficient), but he also feels dirty in other, more frightening ways. He tries to let his fear over the past days wash down the drain with the grime, but his nervousness isn’t so easy to get rid of.

Still, despite his worries, he hasn’t truly slept for more than a couple of hours at a time, aside from the times he’d been drugged, the whole time, so he falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. With Asami beside him, the nightmares that had kept him awake during his captivity do not come. He sleeps until almost lunchtime the next day. When he wakes up, Asami is not there. After glancing at the time, this doesn’t concern him particularly. Asami never sleeps this late, no matter what time he goes to bed. Then the events of the past 5 days come crashing back and he turns over and moans into his pillow. Maybe he can just stay in bed all day and pretend to be asleep. That wouldn’t be so odd, after his ordeal, right? But no. Akihito may be a lot of things that make Asami a little crazy, but a coward isn’t one of them.

He gets up and pads into the living room. Asami isn’t there either. He frowns. The paper the man had been reading is lying open on the coffee table. The lead story catches his eye. Apparently last night….well, in the wee hours of the morning, rather, there had been a mysterious fire in an old warehouse located in a warehouse district that has been falling out of use over the past few years. The police had discovered evidence amongst the ruins that had led them to believe the facility had been being used as some kind of location for human trafficking. Akihito swallows hard. Feeling nauseous, he reads on. No human remains were discovered inside the charred remains of the building. Relief washes over him so strongly that his legs go a bit wobbly. He feels bad enough. Asami becoming embroiled in a way with a Yakuza gang, something the man had told Aki a while back that he believed would be a foolish thing to do, would have made him feel even worse. Not that he doesn’t feel bad enough. It terrifies him a little bit to realize though, that he’s not sure he’d have felt all that bad if the men who had planned to sell him off to someone as a sex slave, along with who knows how many others, hadn’t survived the fire. He’s staring blankly at the paper when Asami’s voice from behind him makes him jump in startled surprise. Can the man not make some kind of fucking noise when he walks into a room?

“How are you feeling?” Asami asks him.

“Oh, I….I’m fine,” he replies.

“They didn’t….didn’t….” 

Aki blinks. He’s never seen Asami at a loss for words before.

“They didn’t do anything to me,” he says quickly. “I mean, aside from putting some kind of drugs in my food. I’m worries. I don’t want to become some…”

“It was only sleeping pills,” Asami interrupts him. Aki slumps a little in relief. He’s never forgotten what Liu Feilong had said to him.

“I...I didn’t thank you,” whispers Akihito. “Last night. For saving me. I...I know I can’t pay you back, I…”

“The money was nothing, Akihito. I know which gang took you, from the tattoos they were showing. Their leader doesn’t want trouble with me any more than I want it with him. I’ll get it back. Don’t trouble yourself about that.”

“Oh,” says Aki faintly, trying not to wonder why Asami knows someone like that. “Tha….That’s good.”

“I would have paid more, you know. Whatever it took..”

“I...I know that.”

“We should talk,” says Asami. He looks tired. Akihito doesn’t want to talk. He wants to get on with their lives and pretend that awful thing never happened. But he sits down on the couch next to his lover when Asami gestures to him to do so.

“I really am sorry,” he says hurriedly. Asami holds up a hand to stop him.

“Do you think I’d ask you a job just to be mean to you, or to try to control you?” asks Asami. “I have never done so before, despite knowing that sometimes the work you do is dangerous.”

“I know,” Akihito replies in a small voice.

“Crooked politicians are one thing, but messing in Yakuza business is something else entirely.”

“I...I get that now.” Aki looks down at his hands, twisting his fingers together.

“So if I do ask you to turn down a job, there will always be a very good reason as well as a very good reason for not telling you why. I know your curiosity by now, and how much trouble it can get you into. In case you were wondering, I was already taking steps to shut that operation down, once I’d gathered the evidence I needed.”

“I...okay,” saya Akihito miserably. 

“What did I tell you was going to happen if you continued to ignore my request?” Asami’s voice is cool, almost emotionless.

“You know what you said,” mutters Akihito under his breath. Asami slants him one of those looks. His face heats up with an embarrassed flush. 

“You...you said….you said you’d punish me,” whispers Aki.

“I did, yes. But you kept at it anyway. You kept at it, and you were captured, and you vanished. Akihito, you vanished for five days. Five days when I didn’t know whether you were alive or dead.”

“I said I was sorry,” protests Aki. Asami’s face is no longer impassive. He glares at Aki, which makes him shrink a little inside, but underneath the anger he thinks he sees something else. Something he likes even less than the anger. Asami had been frightened. For him. Because of him. He’d looked sort of the same way when he’d come for Akihito on Feilong’s casino ship. Asami sighs heavily.

“I’ve already asked you once to stop tossing my heart around like this, but you seem to have a talent for it.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“I know. You never do. You just never think. Akihito. I’m going to keep my word.”

“You….” But Akihito can’t really think of anything to say. 

“I’m going to spank you,” says Asami quietly. “Since words don’t seem to be doing any good whatsoever, maybe this will.”

“What?” cries Aki in a shrill voice. Asami just looks at him patiently. “No you’re not!”

“Oh yes,: Asami assures him. “I am.”

“Asami, I’m not six years old anymore. You can’t….you can’t just….”

“Spank you? I assure you that I can. I’m a great deal stronger than you.”

Depressingly, this is all too true. Even if Akihito decides to fight him, the end result will be the same. He glares at Asami.

“You bastard.”

Asami hums in agreement. In a flash, so fast that Akihito can’t even see it happening, Asami’s hand is gripping his upper arm like a band of iron and he’s yanked unceremoniously over the man’s lap. He bucks and squirms, but Asami wraps an arm around his waist. Akihito has a split second to wish he’d gotten dressed before leaving the bedroom as his asshole lover easily yanks his sleep pants down to his knees. He continues to struggle uselessly until the moment when the palm of Asami’s hand cracks down on his bare bottom, and then he goes stiff as a board with shock. Fuck, it stings. And Asami does it again, and then again. Akihito’s momentary shock gives way to protest. He resumes bucking against Asami’s hold, which has depressingly little effect, except that Asami’s hand comes down even harder. He howls and starts to kick as hard as he can, which isn’t saying all that much with his pants around his knees, but he still manages to drive one of his knees into Asami’s calf. He hopes it hurts.Even if it does, it doesn’t seem to have any effect, unless he counts Asami smacking him even harder, and on the backs of his thighs, which hurts even more.

Aki is humiliated to feel tears prick the corners of his eyes as the spanking continues. He has no idea how many times Asami has spanked him. Ten? A dozen? Fifty seven? He only knows that his ass and the backs of his legs feel like they’re on fire, and Asami isn’t stopping. He bites his lip hard, determined not to give the bastard the satisfaction of his tears, but it’s futile. As Asami continues to batter his defenseless bottom with his hand, Akihito can’t help it. He squeals in pain, and the tears burst forth, pouring down his cheeks and dripping on the dark leather of the couch. The harder he struggles, the harder Asami spanks him, so he finally stops kicking, thinking maybe Asami will stop assaulting his ass as well. But that’s not what happens. Asami keeps spanking him, and he keeps crying. Sobbing openly now, he does the only other thing he can think of.

“Oww! Asami, please! I’m suh-sorry! Please stop! It hurts!”

“It’s supposed to,” says Asami calmly, and keeps going. After what seems an interminable time to Akihito but which is probably only a few minutes, Asami stops. He rubs his hand in gentle circles over Akihito’s blazing flesh. Now that the cruel smacks have stopped, Aki becomes aware of something. Something besides Asami’s touch and the fiery pain in his backside. His face burns with humiliation when he becomes aware that he’s horrible, achingly hard against Asami’s thigh. What the fuck is that about? 

Asami waits until his sobbing dies down to quiet sniffling and the occasional hiccup. Then he speaks. 

“Now, you have two choices here. I can keep doing this for another five minutes, and I will make it hurt even more than it did for the first five minutes, or….”

“Or whuh-what,” gasps Aki, trying very hard not to squirm.

“Or you can go to the conservatory and pick a good-sized switch off of one of the trees there. Make sure it’s straight. Make sure the base of it is about as big around as your little finger or I shall go down and choose one myself and I’ll use it on you until it breaks, by the way. You’ll peel off all the leaves and buds and little branches so that it’s as smooth as possible, and you bring it to me. I’ll whip you with it a dozen times, and this will be over.”

Akihito goes very still. His mind is racing. On one hand, only 12 hits sounds a hell of a lot better than being spanked for another five whole minutes, because that had been awful. On the other hand, it sounds kind of scary, but most of all, he’s going to have to stand up and Asami will see that he has an erection. 

“You’d better decide now, Aki-kun, or the offer’s going to expire,” says Asami, and the tiny bit of underlying humour in his voice tells Akihito that his predicament is already perfectly obvious to his lover. Well, of course it is. Even somebody a lot less observant than Asami could hardly miss a hard dick digging into the side of their leg. Oh gods, he’s going to die.

“Fine,” he snarls angrily. He does his best to pull his pants back up while still lying over Asami’s lap, but that’s less than perfectly successful, so he clambers to his feet as fast as he can, yanking them up as he does so. He wobbles a little, and Asami reaches out to steady him before he can pitch over sideways. Dashing away the tears with the back of his hand, he glares venomously at Asami.

“I hate you,” he hisses, turning on his heel and marching towards the door. 

“No, you don’t,” says Asami, and damn the man, he’s right.

So, praying to every god he can think of, as well as a couple he makes up on the spot, Akihito slinks down to the conservatory located on the section of the roof over the parking garage. At least one of the gods is apparently listening, because the conservatory is abandoned, as it usually is during the middle of the day during the week. He sighs in relief that no one can see him looking like he’s been crying like a little boy (well, fine, he has), and looks around for a serviceable tree. A lot of them have really crooked branches, but he eventually locates one that has at least a few long, relatively straight ones. For a few seconds, he considers ripping off a tiny little twig just to spite Asami, but he has absolutely no doubt that the man will follow through on his threat, so he very, very carefully measures the thickness of several branches until he finds one that meets his jerk of a lover’s requirements and snaps it off. He strips the leaves quickly, scattering them over the mulch at the tree’s base so they won’t be lying on the little stone path and give away the fact that someone has been vandalizing the landscaping. 

He sprints for the elevator, still praying he won’t be seen. Luck isn’t with him this time around. There’s a little old lady on the elevator, her tiny little fluffy lapdog on a leash. She gives him and the stick in his hand a very strange look.

“My...ah...cat’s favorite toy broke,” Akihito says desperately. “It’s one of those feathery fish things on a string? So I hadda go find a new stick. He’s really sad about it, y’know?” says Aki desperately. The woman just nods, and gets off the elevator on the next floor. Akihito sags against the wall in relief, then straightens with a pained yelp. Fuck, his ass is still on fire.

His desire to hurry vanishes like mist the moment the doors slide silently open on the penthouse floor. Dragging his heels, he trudges over to the door. It’s a lot harder than it’s ever been to reach out and grab the doorknob, but he does it. The last thing in the world he wants Asami to do is add extra strokes because he’s taken too long. At least his dick isn’t hard anymore when he walks slowly into the living room to find Asami sitting in exactly the same position he’d been in before. He looks up from the newspaper he’s apparently been reading. Maybe that article again? Akihito tries not to wonder whether Asami had had anything to do with the fire or not. He folds it and sets it back down on the coffee table, then stands up and holds out his hand. For a second, Aki stares at him incredulously, then he realizes that Asami is gesturing for the stick in Akihito’s hand and his face turns even redder than it’s been this entire time. Reluctantly, he hands it over, then stands there burning with embarrassment and fury and, well, okay, mostly nerves as Asami examines it carefully. When he finally looks up at Aki, for a split second, there’s something hot and wild in Asami’s eyes and Akihito groans inwardly because damn the man, now he’s getting hard again.

“I want you to come over here and put your hands on the sofa. You’re going to stay just like I tell you, or I’m going to start over. If you don’t think you can do that, I’m willing to take you to the….room….and bind you so that you won’t be able to move,” Asami says seriously.

Akihito thinks about that room and some of the things they’ve done in there, and all of the...the toys and tools and implements on the walls and he knows he’ll probably die if he has to do this in there. He shakes his head and lifts his chin.

“Fuck you. I can do this.”

“I hope so,” says Asami. Then he waits. Akihito just stands there. He doesn’t know if he can do this. Doesn’t know if he can walk over there and bend over and let Asami whip his ass with that switch. Asami raises an eyebrow.

“If you’re not in position in 20 seconds, I’ll add five to the dozen you’re getting,” he says calmly, which galvanizes Akihito into action. He scurries to the sofa next to Asami and bends over, his face and ears flaming. His fingers flex and dig into the leather. He hopes he puts scratches into it. He feels Asami’s hands at his hips and welp, there go his pants again. His skin is still so hot that the air in the room feels cold. He shivers. He tries not to be scared. How much can one flimsy little stick that’s thinner than the tip of a chopstick at the business end really hurt anyway?

There’s an itchy sensation up and down his ass as Asami strokes the switch over his ass, then he abruptly discovers the answer to his question. The answer is a LOT. It feels like a red hot wire has been laid across the skin of his backside. He yelps loudly and leaps upright, hands going behind him to cover his assaulted nether regions. Asami sighs.

“Tch. Are you sure you don’t want me to tie your hands?”

“N-no. I’m doing this. I just….I was just surprised, that’s all,” mutters Aki a little wetly, his eyes already filling with tears again. But fuck Asami if he thinks Aki can’t do this. 

“All right then. The first one won’t count though,” Asami replies. Aki bends back over and glares through watery eyes over his shoulder.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little fucking excessive?” he grits out through his teeth. Asami lowers the switch and stares at him for some time.

“No. No, I think I’m showing remarkable self restraint after spending almost an hour last night to outbid a man who wanted to buy my lover and who I happen to believe very strongly has caused the death of more than one of the slaves he’s acquired through similar means.”

Akihito stares at him in horror. 

“I...I didn’t know,” he says in a small voice. 

“Are you ready?”

“I...probably not. But I’m not gonna move again,” says Akihito through his teeth. 

The next stroke burns just as much as the first. And the one after that. The only way Aki can get through it without moving is by not trying to fight the pain. So he doesn’t. He howls and he cries. He nearly screams when the switch curls around one of his thighs. He sobs like a baby and yells loud enough to wake the dead, so it’s probably a good thing the penthouse is soundproofed. Oh gods and all the seven hells, that fucking little twig feels like it’s slicing him open. He’s sure he’s going to feel his blood sliding down his legs any second. Asami doesn’t hold back, either. Every stroke burns like fire across Akihito's defenseless bottom and the tops of his thighs. He’s bawling like a baby, legs shaking as he fights with everything in him to keep from jumping up and trying to run away.

But he doesn’t. He’s crying too hard to notice when it stops. He lets out a choked, watery yelp when Asami suddenly touches him, leaning down to scoop him up in his arms and carry him to the bedroom. He’s too wrung out to even fight it. Asami lays him down gently on his stomach on the bed. He vanishes for a few moments and then he's back, kneeling beside the bed with some kind of green glass jar in his hands. He unscrews the lid and a soft herbal scent perfumes the air. With infinite gentleness, he dips his fingers into the jar and starts smoothing whatever the stuff is over Akihito’s red, welted backside. The salve, or whatever it is, is almost instantly soothing. In a surprising amount of time, Aki’s sobs fade to soft crying and then to muffled sniffles as he hides his face in his pillow. Finished, Asami sets the jar down and walks around the bed to sit down beside Akihito. His fingers card through the young photographer’s hair. From the end of the bed, he grabs the soft throw and lays is carefully over Akihito, tucking it around his shoulders.

“”Why are you doing that? Why don’t you just….go away,” mutters Aki into the pillow.

“There are a number of things I need to do to make sure you’ll be all right. First of all, I forgive you. I will never mention this again, you have my word. I hope someday you’ll forgive me too. Secondly, your body may go through some strange reactions, and there are things I need to do to try to prevent that from happening. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” grumbles Aki, trying hard to ignore how soft the comforter feels against his cock. And trying even harder not to move his hips.

“Will you be all right if I leave you for a minute?” asks Asami gently. Akihito nods once. It’s weird, because he should be furious, but he feels oddly bereft without Asami’s presence. He’s not gone long though, returning with a glass of juice, a banana, and a box of pocky. Brightening a little, Akihito turns on his side and snatches the food, downing the banana in 3 bites before tearing into the box of pocky. It’s weird, but he can’t remember apple juice ever tasting so good. Then, after only four sticks, he finds himself feeling really sleepy and doesn’t want to finish the pocky, which is completely unheard of for him. 

Asami seems hesitant to touch him, but Akihito leans into the hand brushing through his hair. He knows he ought to be pissed at Asami, but at the same time, for the first time since they'd gotten in the limo last night, everything feels okay between them, and he doesn’t want to let that go. He hunches closer to Asami, blushing again when his erection brushes against the other man’s thigh. But he’s so sleepy, he can’t bring himself to care too much.

Asami chuckles softly, laying an arm around his shoulders and tucking him tight up against his muscular body.

“Rest. It’s all right. You’ll probably feel a lot better after you do,” says Asami quietly. “Oh, and Akihito?”

“Hhn?”

“Once you’re not sore anymore, come and talk to me. I think it’s well past time I started teaching you about erotic spanking. Among other things.”

Akihito would probably say something to this outrageous statement, but he’s too busy falling asleep with his head on Asami’s powerful chest.


End file.
